Darkest Hour
by TheLyricsAreMyStory
Summary: "Take me in into your darkest hour and I'll never desert you, I'll stand by you". A one-shot by carla-connor-corrie and me, that's a rewrite of tonight's episode!


**Darkest Hour:**

 ** _A one-shot by Jaz and me (Carla-connor-corrie and southparkfan1998). We've collaborated this fanfiction with inspiration from tonight's episode (30_** ** _th_** ** _December 2015), hope you enjoy it!x_**

The flat was silent until the front door opened, at the exact point I had risen from the sofa, where I had remained all morning and night. I knew who it would be instantly and so continued to carry the empty wine bottles over to the kitchen sink. I could tell by the way he shut the door behind him that he could establish something was wrong. It didn't surprise me; he hadn't walked in to find a mess like this since September.

I had been dreading this conversation, it had been heart breaking enough having to tell Michelle and at that point I had been in bits, so could rage about anything. Now I was calm, my anger was settled as if I was a currently inactive volcano. But that was all thanks to the wine, I could erupt at any second.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" He asks, trying to conceal the relief in his voice. Despite the fact I had empty bottles glued to me, at least it wasn't a disappearing act, which was something common for me when I went off on one. "I've been worried sick."

"Sorry..." I trail off, my tone genuinely apologetic. I meant it, I had ignored his calls all night, ignored his pleas to show how much he cared. The one night he has to leave me to travel to Birmingham to meet a supplier, then this gets dropped on me. It wasn't his fault, but part of me still felt abandoned. "Was the supplier any good?"

"I got back at five this morning." He diverts the subject. "I would have come here but I thought you might be sleeping. Perhaps you had undergone one of those nights where you turn your phone off, put your face mask on and watch television... Except I wouldn't be there to put the blanket over you this time."

"Well I did sleep on the sofa." I negotiate. "Did my back in..."

"I warn you every time." He prompts me, but there was seriousness laced in his tone. "...What's happened?"

"I don't even know where to start." I stammer slightly, my eyes moving against his. He observed me, knowing that once again I was going to deliver some bad news. It could be anything knowing me, he was my fiancé, not a super hero. He could never be emotionally prepared for anything I was going to throw at him.

"Do you want to sit down?" He offers but I shake my head, standing rigidly against the kitchen counter.

"May as well just come out and say it..." I swallow, gathering all my courage to channel into a single statement. Nick's eyes are full of concern and love, adorning on me despite the fact I had slept in yesterday's make up, my hair un-brushed, the scent of wine seething from my dressing gown. He still manages to make me feel secure, even at the most vulnerable of times. "...Johnny's my dad."

* * *

My arms folded across my chest; they acted as a wall, a barrier, a sign to say that I was hurt, I was angry, I was confused. My arms felt like a guard, a guard that meant no one could get in, no one would know how I really felt.

"He just said it, he just came out with it," I sighed as Nick watched me intensely; his eyes were focused on me as I spoke but he looked different. He looked tired and at first he looked confused. He looked shocked as he remained silent and allowed me to talk.

"He were being all weird at first, said it were important then kept banging on about this caravan holiday we went on when I were a kid. I told him I'd just ask Liz if he didn't spit it out and then well he told me," I sighed, every time I spoke of the revelation my chest felt tight. It felt tight because I was angry, hurt and so unsure of everything. Unsure of everything that I'd lived through, it'd slowly hit me throughout the night how different everything could've been. The more wine that flowed through my system the more I realised, the more I realised that my whole life could've been so different.

"So he just came out with it? Just randomly?" Nick asked, his face held a puzzled expression as if he was unsure of what to say or what to think.

"Yeah," I said slowly, "Sort of felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, like I'd been shot. Not that I know what it's like to get shot. Y'know what? It felt like when you're in games at school and someone throws the ball in your stomach. Yeah, that's how it felt."

"So he knew all this time and didn't tell you?" Nick asked me; his face had an ounce of disappointment in it. I hoped disappointment with Johnny, for not telling me sooner, for dumping it on me when I'd been so happy.

"Yeah," I replied bluntly; I didn't mean to be blunt with him at all but the more I went over it, the more real it became. Every second it was becoming more real, more real that my childhood could've been saved, more real that everything had been a lie.

"I'm confused," Nick admitted to me, shaking his head.

"Join the club," I laughed trying to make a joke, trying to do anything to divert the topic of conversation.

"He knew what your Mum was like?" I nodded in response, "He knew what was happening and he just let it happen?" Again I nodded in response, struggling to find the words to reply. Because knowing the answers to the questions confirmed everything. It confirmed that Johnny could've saved me but his pride was always more important. At any point Johnny could have given me the upbringing I needed, the upbringing I deserved but not once did he even try.

"Carla," Nick sighed taking his hands out his pockets and stepping towards me. His voice was full of empathy and care but I didn't want it. Well, I did want it, I did want Nick to hold me but I was never going to admit that. I stepped back slightly signalling to him that I didn't want his pity, I didn't need him to hold me upright when really I did. I needed some source of comfort, some source of normality but admitting that would make me look weak and I wasn't about to look weak.

"Whatever, I'll get over it," I shrugged as Nick went to step away but he remained close to me his eyes were attempting to lock with mine but I wouldn't allow them to. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on the floor my arms still wrapped tightly around my frame, "Carla look at me," Nick said quietly, his voice now full of concern. I slowly lifted my head so our eyes would meet but I looked away quickly. His gaze meeting mine brought tears to my eyes. It brought tears because he cared, Nick really cared and everything he'd said had helped me realise what Johnny's revelation meant. I didn't want to break down; of course I didn't but it was inevitable.

"Why now?" Nick suddenly asked, "Why has he told you now, what's changed?"

"Rob," I replied quietly, not wanting to let the tears building in my eyes spill. I was still hurt that Johnny had only told me because of Rob, I was hurt that I was never supposed to find out.

"Rob as in your Rob?"

"No, your chef," I said sarcastically but immediately regretted it, "I'm sorry," I practically whispered before a stray tear fell down my cheek. It raced through my make up from the previous day and I felt Nick gently wipe it away. His hand then went to my back and gently rubbed it; Nick's small movements comforted me, made me feel safe, they helped ensure me that I could get through this.

"Rob's been black mailing Johnny," I told Nick as more tears flowed; I didn't try and hide them anymore there was no point. Nick could tell when I was broken, he just could. He tried to pull me into a hug but I declined; I declined because I didn't need his pity. I just needed to get on with things.

"Nick, honestly I don't need your pity," I snapped causing him to step back from me with a sigh. A sigh that was full of emotions, emotions which I couldn't begin to imagine.

* * *

"Come away from there, please." Nick practically begs me as I continue to mess with the coffee machine. I wasn't even doing anything with it, it's purpose was purely to distract my attention from the topic at hand.

"What if I want a coffee?" I ask him.

"Well I'll make you one." He negotiates and I move my eyes to look at him before following his command. I go and sit down on the sofa and I feel his gaze on the back of my head for a brief moment. "So, what now?"

"Well..." I mutter, pulling my knees up to my chest in an attempt to decrease my vulnerability. "It's not gonna be a tearful hug and 'will you walk me down the aisle dad'."

"Of course not but..." His voice is concerned, full of understanding, which wasn't helping my attempts at pushing him away. He had been here an hour and had hardly moved from my side, it didn't look like he would be leaving me anytime soon. I'm sat staring at the carpet for about a minute before I realise he hadn't finished his own sentence.

"But what?" I prompt him as I feel him move towards me. He's not hesitant as he makes his way round the sofa, placing a mug of coffee down on the table.

"But you can't ignore the fact that he is your father." He says as gently as possible, sitting down next to me but leaving an appropriate amount of distance so I don't feel suffocated. I needed him to wrap his arms around me and rock me gently and tell me it was going to be alright. But my actions were screaming the opposite and he wasn't a mind reader. He knew I needed reassurance, but he also knew I wanted to push him away. There was a barrier between us that was crumbling as I did.

"He's ignored me for forty years." I persist and I can't keep the hurt out of my voice, it cracks ever so slightly and I have to fight to force back tears. "Can you imagine how different my childhood could have been?" I ask him and it physically hurts to say the words. There's an aching in my throat from my forceful attempts to regain strength. I finally turn my head to face him and the sorrow in his eyes kills me, as if it was almost as painful for him as it was for me. He could tell I needed to cry, he could tell how close I was. "Can ya?" I try to question him further, my chest tight with fear and frustration. He doesn't say a word, he just lets me stare back at him. I swallow loudly and bite my lip so hard that I taste the saltiness of blood resurfacing. I was crying, I was breaking and I needed to get out now. "I need something stronger than coffee-"

"Carla." He places his hand on mine as soon as I try to get up and the contact rushes through my body in a burst of security, safety, stability and it was far too overpowering for me to handle right now. I'm in tears and he's pulled me in before either of us know it. We knew it was coming. He kisses me on the side of my head and whispers the words I need to hear, rocking me gently, just as I needed him to.

Then just when the moment was relaxing me, finally allowing me to regain some form of comfort from the last twenty four hours, the intercom buzzes.

"Leave it." I whisper, my voice hoarse from the outburst of tears. My throat sore from the prevention of emotion. "Please Nick."

"I can get rid of them?" He soothes and I nod into his chest, trying to wipe any traces of weakness from my eyes before letting go, because when we were apart, I had to be strong. When we were together, I got to be myself. I got to crumble and break and show my true colours and he loved me for that.

And because of that, I loved him.

* * *

"Has she told you?" I heard Roy ask as he entered the flat, Nick responded with a yes and then Roy proceeded to ask how I was. They were doing it because they cared but I couldn't help but be annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that once again I had people checking up on me, people making sure I was okay.

I was fed up of people asking if I was okay because how can you be when you find out your whole childhood could've been saved? How can you be when everything you'd been through as a child could've been avoided?

"I'm fine," I stressed as I came through from the bathroom where I'd finished in the bath.

"I've been very worried," Roy admitted, "You seemed quite distressed yesterday evening."

I wanted to shout at him, I wanted to yell and scream and cry. But I couldn't not in front of Roy, it wouldn't have been fair. I wanted to shout and tell him that anyone would be distressed when they find out they'd married their third cousin. Anyone would be distressed if their whole childhood had been a lie, if all the pain they felt could've been avoided. But I didn't shout, I didn't cry. Instead I proceeded to ask about Hope.

"How did Hope get on today?"

"Oh she was very brave," Roy told me, he sounded proud but nervous. I guess anyone would be nervous when awaiting the results they were.

"You get the results tomorrow?" Nick asked as I made Roy a drink, he nodded in response.

"Carla, have you made a decision?" Roy asked me causing me to sigh. My attempts to change the subject were constantly failing; all anyone would talk about was Johnny. All people wanted to know was what I was planning to do next. They were asking me questions I didn't know the answers to. I twiddled with the rings on my fingers and remained silent as my response to Roy's question; I remained silent in the hope he'd understand I didn't want to talk about it.

"I've suggested to her that maybe she doesn't tell Kate and Aidan," Nick told Roy who nodded in agreement.

"I do agree Nick," Roy said making me roll my eyes.

"Well I don't know what I'm going to do right now because all I feel is anger, I feel anger with more anger added on top," I snapped getting increasingly annoyed, "But I'm so glad you both agree on what's best for me."

"I'm just concerned for you Carla," Roy says gently.

"But why shouldn't I tell them? Why shouldn't they know their Dad's, or should I say our Dad's, little secret?" I asked angered, angered at the fact no one else seemed to be angry. They both seemed to be protecting Johnny; by not telling Kate and Aidan it was allowing Johnny to continue hiding the truth.

"Because you're angry at Johnny, you're not angry at Kate and Aidan," Roy reasoned, "They don't deserve to be hurt by this."

"Well maybe not but if I don't tell them now and it comes out at a later date how will that look ey?"

"By hurting them you're not going to make yourself feel any better," Nick told me.

"How do you know what'll make me feel better?" I snapped, "Neither of you know what's going on in my head so butt out!" I didn't mean to shout at them, of course I didn't. I let out a sigh and placed my coffee cup on the side and replaced it with a wine bottle and an empty glass. An empty glass that I had no intentions of keeping empty.

"You know what?" I said as I began to pour the wine, "I just want Johnny to feel one ounce of the pain I've spent my whole life drinking to forget," I snapped before going to walk off but Nick's words stop me.

"Carla," He sighed, I stopped walking away and turned to face him.

"I'm going to um leave you to it," Roy said awkwardly before going to leave.

"Thank you," Nick told him with a weak smile before he left.

We stood awkwardly for a few moments, neither of us talking.

"Please don't push me away," Nick said gently taking gradual steps towards me.

"I'm not, I just need time to think," I admitted because it was the truth. I needed time to think about everything, about Kate, about Aidan, about Rob and about myself. I needed to think about how I wanted to move forward.

"I know," Nick said with a sigh as he watched me take a drink from my glass, he reached his hand out expecting me to hand it over, "Carla that isn't the answer," He told me and I know he was right.

"You're not my Dad!" I snapped before breaking down.

I broke, I was broken because Johnny was my Dad, Johnny could've saved me from so much pain but he didn't. That pain had broken me, _he_ had broken me when he told me I could've been saved.

The tears flew freely down my cheeks as Nick removed the glass from my hand and placed it on the side. He pulled me into an embrace and rocked me gently. His arms wrapped around me tightly and made me feel safe and that I wasn't alone. His lips occasionally connected with the side of my head and he planted gentle kisses into my hair. Nick whispers were comforting to me, comfort that soothes me and calms my tears, calms my shaking body and relaxes me as Nick held me tightly I knew that even in my darkest hours he'd stand by me and that's why I was so madly in love with him.

 **Thank You so much for reading; it was honestly so lovely to write something like this with Hannah and combine our ideas. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing and working with Hannah…Jaz x**


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